


I know who you pretend I am

by peterstrahmsdick



Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, F/M, Sad, Torture, Violence, amanda is only mentioned once, apprentice strahm au, as well as john, hoffman is an asshole, references to the films
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29065020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterstrahmsdick/pseuds/peterstrahmsdick
Summary: Lindsey had a feeling her partner was Jigsaw, but she wasn't actually expecting it.
Relationships: Lindsey Perez/Peter Strahm
Kudos: 7





	I know who you pretend I am

**Author's Note:**

> damn shawty long title 
> 
> it's set around saw iii ??? idk i didn't really think about it :D
> 
> also strahm had apprentice potential but he had to be fucking bland

Lindsey knew it - her partner, Peter Strahm was jigsaw.

Technically he wasn't _the_ jigsaw they had been searching for, but he was working with him. After all those rants he had gone on about his guy and now she had figured out he was a part of the little cult.

How could Lindsey have been so stupid? She really believed he had nothing to do with the killer, but now everything just made sense - how he lashed out eveytime someone mentioned the case, how he was always busy, how he'd always leave her-

None of that really mattered anymore. That left her with a choice - either hunt Peter down and arrest him or do nothing about it. Shit.

As soon as she got home from work that day, she collapsed against the door once she was inside and didn't move for a while. Her brain was still processing everything that happened. She buried her head in her hands and let out a frustrated sigh.

Lindsey sat on the floor for a while, trying to figure out what she was meant to do. Her only good (and sane) plan was to wait until tomorrow and then confront him at work. The only issue was that she knew that Peter would lash out on her again, probably yell at her for thinking of something "so idiotic".

For all she knew she could be next - he could kidnap her, tie her down and force her to bleed out just so his bloodlust would be satisfied. Or, one of the other accomplices would strap her into some awful device and he would stand there and watch as she died. Hell, he'd probably attempt to save her and then flip it all around and get her crushed to death or some shit.

It wasn't until Lindsey had gotten the dreadful thoughts out of her head that there was a thud from down the hall. She slowly rose from the floor, pulling out her gun and tiptoeing around her apartment to where the noise came from. Going into the bathroom, she saw nothing except that her load of laundry was done. In her mind she was trying to convince herself that she was being paranoid and left the room.

She looked over to her bedroom door where she came into contact of getting roughly punched in the jaw, then tackled to the ground. Forgetting about her gun and where it had gone, she got ready to fight back until she noticed what they were wearing - the mysterious person had one of the stupid pig masks on, the type that all the accomplices would wear. Oh fuck.

She clawed at the mask, trying to pull it off, whilst the anonymous person shoved her back against the floor multiple times, her head collding with the floorboards forcefully. Eventually she stopped fighting back, her head aching terribly as she attempted to fight the wave of nausea overcoming her.

Once everything had stopped spinning, Lindsey opened her eyes to find the intruder placing bullets into a gun, pointing the barrel right at her. They placed it against her chest, obviously enjoying her panic-striken she looked. They then moved their other hand to her neck, wrapping around her throat. The figure now held the gun against her head whilst their hand pressed sightly harder down on her neck.

Lindsey's hands grabbed at the figure's, trying to move it before they left her unconscious. Giving up on that, she managed to slide her leg up without the person knowing and kicked them in the stomach - they keeled over next to her and she got up, grabbed her gun and pointed it at them.

"Let me see- let me see your fucking hands!" She yelled, still trying to get her breath back. There was a crash from behind her and she turned around to come face to face with another pig-wearing person, who she swung her gun at, making direct contact with their head. They stumbled back slightly, but as soon as they recovered, they shoved her back against the wall, sticking a syringe in her neck.

Before Lindsey could even process what was going on, everything went dark.

When Lindsey woke up, her chest hurt. It took a minute to come to her senses and when she did, she realised she was in a trap - oh god.

Before she could cry out for help, there was a static noise and she looked over to her left to see a TV come to life, a video of the man himself, John Kramer.

"Hello, Agent Perez, I want to play a game. For your whole life you have believed that your father left your mother because she cheated on him, but you know that's not what happened. When you were younger, you and your cousin were out on the lake, despite your parents telling you not to. In the end, the two of you fell in and were immediatley brought to the hospital, where your parents were told that only one of you would survive. Your mother chose you.

Your father was so distraught with the fact that his wife would choose that their daughter would get to live and not his sister's child that he left your mother, guilt taking over his life and leaving him dead before your twelfth birthday. Sadly, you don't know how that feels, to lose a loved one, but today, you will show me. Before you is a tube full of razor wire and somewhere in it is the key to free you from the device you are in. When the timer ends in three minutes, your ribs will be ripped from your body, leaving you lifeless, just like your cousin."

The timer started to tick.

She wanted to throw up, but she couldn't. She was not going to let herself die this way. 

Lindsey plunged her hand into the razor wire and felt the razors dive into her skin, preventing her from going further. She pulled and twisted her hand harshly from the wires as she attmpted to find the key.

She could feel the pressure on her chest and ribs increasing as she forced her hand further down the tube, the wire catching onto the skin and cutting it - she was not about to let this sick bastard take her life for something she barely had any control over.

Lindsey's hand felt numb as she desperately tried to use any sense of touch left to find the key, occasionally thinking she had found it only to have blades cut into her fingers. From what she could see, most of her hand was stained red and the wire was coiled around her wrist, prevnting her from moving her back up.

She pushed her hand further through the razor wire and grasped onto the key with her fingers. As she started to pull back, one of the razors caught onto her wrist, digging into her, and she dropped the key, feeling it slip away as she whimpered, knowing she'd have to try again.

She felt skin peel from her hand as she stuck it in again and let out a sob, feeling a sudden shortness of breath. The cage became more tight as the timer ticked down, now under a minute to go. Her fingers scrambled amongst the razors, frantically searching for the key.

Lindsey let out a frustrated cry as she forced her hand through, but managing to grip onto the key and moved her hand back up, still holding onto it the best she could. Once she had gotten her bloody mess of a hand out, she passed the key over to her uninjured one, she unlocked the trap and fell to the floor, just in time before it made a loud, creaking noise and flew open - at least she now knew what could've happened to her.

Her next plan was getting out of here. How? She was unsure.

Lindsey had discovered that there was an unlocked door and she carefully went through it, looking out for anything that could blow her brains out. She stared at her mangled hand for a moment, not really sure what to do about it. Her brain was still trying to process everything that happened as she wrapped her shirt around her injured hand, her chest and ribs aching from the pressure that was on them.

She walked down the corridor and eventually came across a gun- _her_ gun, lying in the middle of the floor. Picking it up, she looked around in case anyone tried to jump at her and tucked it into her back pocket.

Eventually she stumbled into a large room, with traps pretty much everywhere. She went further, investigating them as she she looked around the place, trying to find another way out.

It wasn't until she thought she had found something to help her escape, that there was a loud crash and she spun around, only to see Detective Mark Hoffman emerge from the shadows and staring right at her.

"Well, well, well, look who survived," He smirked, walking over to her. Lindsey pressed herself up against the wall, scared for her own safety as he ran his hand down her face. "Nice to see a pretty person survive."

"Step away." She murmured, trying to not make eye contact with him as he wrapped his hand around her waist. How he hadn't felt the gun yet was a surprise to her.

"It seems like that fucking _partner_ of yours can't even protect you now." Hoffman's hand moved from her waist and up her body. She couldn't tell whether or not he was purposely trying to feel her up, but all that ended when his hand was suddenly around her neck.

He wrapped his other hand around her throat as she willed herself not to yell for help - she was kind of scared that someone like Amanda Young would come running and blow her to bits.

Lindsey managed to sneak the gun from the back of her trousers out and was now trying not to accidentally shoot the floor (or herself) whilst she brought it around to the front. She pointed the gun at his leg and fired. He staggered back and she took it as a opportunity to run, diving behind one of the work benches. She heard him getting up and cursing loudly, then his heavy footsteps coming over to her. Fuck.

Waiting until he was closer to her, she emerged from behind the bench and pointed the gun at him again.

"Put your hands up." She hissed, pressing down on the trigger.

"You won't kill me, you don't have the goddamn strength-" He mocked her, until she actually let go and a bullet came at him, but missed him, "Fucking bitch can't even shoot."

At that point she was seething - she pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. And again.

Hoffman fell to the floor and she stood there, not knowing what to do. Her hands shook as she realised what she did.

She backed up, praying he was dead, but seeing that he was moving from where he was on the floor, she raised the gun again. She was ready to shoot, but immediately became restrained from somebody behind her and they pulled her back behind the curtain.

She thrashed against them, trying to get out of their tight grip. Eventually they let her go and she spun around, gun ready. That's when she realised she couldn't shoot him - it was Peter Strahm.

"I-" She was stunned. Mostly because of the massive cut on his forehead - he had been the person she swung her gun at. She looked around wildly, noticing that they were in some sort of makeshift hospital room and lying on the bed was none other than Jigsaw himself (he seemed to be unconscious, but she thought he was most likely dead).

"I'm sorry," Peter muttered, stepping forward and taking the gun from her. He placed it on the side next to the heart monitor. "There's a sink in the corner if you want to..."

Tension rose quickly as she silently walked over to the sink and turned the tap on, almost scolding herself with the hot water that came flooding out. A small hiss escaped her mouth as she felt the water run over her, cleansing her exposed flesh.

Lindsey could feel his eyes on her as the hot water burned the cuts as she tried to clean it. She couldn't face him - her theory was now true, but she wasn't ready to accept it. Not now, and probably never.

She heard his footsteps approaching close and froze on the spot, not ready to turn around, and kept her hand under the water. She could feel his hand on her back, rubbing up and down, attempting to reasssure her.

Peter sighed, "I know who you pretend I am," He wrapped his arms around her waist and she sunk back into his chest, feeling safe, "I know you pretend that I'm not _this_."

As much as she wanted to turn around and just kiss him, she couldn't - all she could do was lean into him and pray everything would turn out right.

Lindsey watched as he pulled her arm back from under the water, watching the red liquid wash away and let him guide her over to a bunch of medical equipment, taking her hand into his own and wrapping it in bandages. The material felt cool against the stinging sensation of her injury and she let out a little sigh from the feeling. The whole time her eyes were on him, watching as he cautiously took care of her.

Once he was done, she abruptly stood up and sped right over to her gun, shoving it in her pcoket again. She went to leave, but was stopped by him, gripping onto her elbow - the look in his eye was pleading her not to go.

"You can't tell anyone about this, Linds," Peter let go of her elbow and she burst into tears, flinging her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding onto her for a moment until he pulled away, grabbing her uninjured hand. "C'mon, let's get you out of here."

"Please, oh please." She whispered, letting him guide her through the curtain to where she had left Hoffman (who has mysteriously disappeared). They both stopped at the sight of the bloodtrail on the floor and he turned to her.

"Did you shoot Hoffman by any chance?" He asked her, looking at her in bewilderment.

"Well yeah, he was being a creep and I swear, it was self-defense." Lindsey panicked, scared he was going to be angry that she shot his partner.

"Fuck. Well, I'm glad someone finally did, I was close to doing it myself." He pulled her along, taking her down the exact hallway she had come through to arrive at a large, metal door where he forcefully shoved it open and they stepped out into the cold night.

The mild air felt much colder against her bare skin and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stay warm. Peter must have noticed her slight discomfort and he passed her his coat and she pulled it around her shoulders, following him to his car.

Thye both got in and she sunk into the chair, not knowing what to say. She could see he was angry, his grip on the steering wheel was tight, and his jaw was clenched.

"I'm sorry," She blurted out, feeling guilty about surviving - that was probably the last thing she had to feel bad about, but right now, her emotions were all over the place. She turned to him and awaited an answer. "You can't do this to me, you can't act like nothing has happened, please just say something."

"I'm fucking glad you survived," He murmured, one hand stayed on the wheel whereas the other moved to her face, cupping her cheek and stroking it.

"Then, you've got to stop working with him, please, for the sake of me.. _us_!" Lindsey pleaded, gripping onto the sleeve of his jacket. After everything from tonight, she couldn't go on and pretend that everything was alright. It was an act she wouldn't be able to keep up. He sighed and let go of the wheel - Peter's expression was suddenly dark and she could had a feeling it wasn't good.

"If you want this to end, you're gonna have to pay a goddamn price, and one of us will most likely end up dead."

**Author's Note:**

> it wasn't *graphic* but i put the warning in case
> 
> anyway see you guys next month when i post again !


End file.
